


Road map to past days

by EvilMuffins



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mention of Past Abuse, Scar Worship, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-19 21:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19364653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: “Of course this would be the one time you decide to keep your mouth shut,” Akechi muttered, flexing his bare fingers, eyes fixed on the gloves he had just discarded, lying crumpled upon the coffee table.“I'm merely taking the time to admire,” Yusuke explained, studying the constellation of scar tissue intently.---Akechi removes his gloves.





	Road map to past days

**Author's Note:**

> Slight AU in which Akechi wears his gloves all the time. This could be taken as a non-Metaverse AU, or set sometime in the future... I really didn't have a particular setting in mind. 
> 
> It's been quite a while since I've written anything not for an exchange/zine/prompt!

 

“Are you really sure you want to see this?” Akechi laughed, attempting to mask the nerves in his voice.

“There lies a certain beauty in the grotesque as well.” Yusuke continued to look pointedly at Akechi's hands, folded on his lap where he thumbed at the edge of his glove.

The person seated beside him wasn't the Akechi Goro from television. Ever since he and Yusuke had begun dating, Akechi had allowed his mask to slip, one inch at time, like singular brushstrokes coming together to form a complete image.

“I never said that they were ' _grotesque_ ',” Akechi protested.

“Forgive me,” Yusuke replied, sliding nearer Akechi's side of the couch and placing his hand over top his boyfriend's. “I shouldn't jump to conclusions. I merely wished to be granted the sight of all you have to offer, no matter how it may appear to the untrained eye of the masses.”

With a resigned sigh, Akechi wormed his hand out from under Yusuke's. One by one, he began to loosen his left glove at the fingertips, and Yusuke thought that he might have grown slightly impatient save for the fact that Akechi was making such a show of it.

Locking eyes with Yusuke, Akechi's piercing red gaze offered an unspoken--yet final--chance for an out, although whose sake it was for, Yusuke couldn't say.

Inch by inch, mottled flesh was revealed, a road map to past days of suffering and fear.

“Of course this would be the one time you decide to keep your mouth shut,” Akechi muttered, flexing his bare fingers, eyes fixed on the gloves he had just discarded, lying crumpled upon the coffee table.

“I'm merely taking the time to admire,” Yusuke explained, studying the constellation of scar tissue intently. “May I?”

Tentatively, Yusuke reached out his own hand, until Akechi nodded. Slipping off the couch, he knelt before Akechi, carefully tugging free the second glove in order to reveal further testaments to atrocities never deserved.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Akechi said, gathering up his gloves to bunch them together in a single fist. “I tried to warn you that they aren't the sort of thing you'd want to waste a canvas over.”

Yusuke shook his head, fumbling for his bag that had been carelessly tossed at the foot of the couch on their way into the apartment. Out of it, he produced a thin marker, of the type typically used for lining sketches. “Breathtaking...”

“You're not going ask where they came from?” Akechi asked, setting the gloves aside for a second time, and watching dubiously as Yusuke uncapped the pen.

“I...” Yusuke frowned, drawing back the pen for a moment as a wave of childhood memories washed over him. Although Madarame's abuse hadn't been physical, save for the withholding of food, Yusuke still knew the pain that so-called caregivers could inflict upon a young body. “I have a fair idea.”

If Yusuke's unspoken conjecture was wrong, Akechi failed to avail him.

Readying his pen once more, Yusuke pressed it to Akechi's skin. Hearts were far too childish a design, but what else to draw...?

“What are you doing?” Akechi asked, curiosity finally getting the best of him as he fitted on a tense smile.

“Attempting to prove that you possess other beautiful attributes beyond just your face.”

Yusuke had never been shy in pointing out Akechi's vast aesthetic appeal, even before they had begun dating, although he was certain that Akechi had heard it all before. This particular comment, however, caused something to come over Akechi that Yusuke had rarely seen before. The tension in Akechi's hand began to quell under Yusuke's pen, and seizing the opportunity, Yusuke set to work. Inspiration soon overtook him, as it often did when Akechi was involved. Reverently, Yusuke began to trace over the pale raised marks, one by one. A line at the wrist, dotted with a kiss that earned an unexpected shudder.

“Would you prefer that I cease?” Yusuke asked, looking up into Akechi's eyes, attempting to discern a true answer there before he spoke. Although they had grown closer in the past handful of months, there were still times in which lies would pass from Akechi's lips, between the kisses and the praise.

“No,” Akechi said, returning Yusuke's gaze while relaxing his hand once more. “Go on.”

Regaining his focus, Yusuke continued on, pen dancing from knuckle to knuckle, stopping only brush his lips over each pronounced ridge of tissue.

Once satisfied in his work, Yusuke stood, capping the pen with a click as he probed Akechi's expression once again, in search of approval.

Akechi was quiet for a moment, studying his hand before speaking. “Constellations?”

“Yes,” Yusuke answered. “The lines on your hands are so entrancing, they put me in mind of the projections at the planetarium. That said... would you care to accompany me sometime?”

Akechi stood abruptly, making for his jacket and shoes by the door. “Why not go now? Dinner's on me afterward, of course.”

Smiling softly, Yusuke joined him at the door, but not before Akechi went back to retrieve his gloves.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The doc got corrupted just as I went to edit, and my entire soul left my body.


End file.
